


Notes From the Grandmaster

by LadyNorbert



Series: Elemental Chess [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Multi, Other, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNorbert/pseuds/LadyNorbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As promised to the readers, this is a collection of side stories set during or after the events of the "Elemental Chess" trilogy. It's best to read the trilogy and its prequel before entering this document, since here be spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burgundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most, if not all, of the stories in this collection will have originally debuted at the FMA Fic Contest community on LiveJournal. My thanks to the members of that group for their consistent kindness, gentle critique, and encouragement.
> 
> Furthermore, additional thanks are extended to that (unnervingly sizable) chunk of Tumblr who fell in love with these stories. There has been a lot of intense fannish screaming in my general vicinity. You are all terrifying and I love you.
> 
> In short, thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the ECT. I hope you enjoy the rest of the things coming out of my head.

 

This first piece was originally composed for the prompt "Switch" on the FMA Fic Contest community. It's set during chapter 10 of  _Brilliancy_  - the one where Roy tells Winry about giving Riza her silver earrings.

**Burgundy**

_The girl with the wine-colored eyes haunts his dreams._

* * *

He is only pretending to sleep.

The truth is that he just can't talk anymore. So he turns over, and cuddles the cool fabric of the pillowcase against his hot cheek, and gradually lets out a little fake snore to persuade Winry that he's more or less passed out. It works; she tucks him in and goes to speak in low tones with her husband and Havoc.

It's nothing against Winry. He's fond of her, and it was sweet of her to let him reminisce like this. The memory doesn't bring Riza back, though, and even with the pillow in his embrace his arms feel empty. Maybe, if he can fall asleep for real, he can at least forget for a while that she's gone and she might not be coming home.

He would give anything if, for an hour, he could switch places with his eighteen-year-old self. No memories of Ishval. No missing wife. No fever. Not even in the military yet - just nearing the end of his studies with a mad genius, and secretly and subtly longing for the man's daughter. It's a bit ironic that he can't, because he's pretty sure that his eighteen-year-old self wouldn't mind the switch too much, if only because then he'd know for certain that he gets her in the end.

He smiles into the pillow, thinking of the last story he told Winry.

* * *

Riza was seventeen then, in her final year of school. Roy was her only real friend; at her school, a place where he'd often wanted to go and beat in a few faces, she was sometimes tormented for her shy demeanor, her crazy father, her outdated wardrobe. She was strong enough to ignore the teasing when it happened, but it was Roy who heard about it later, and as hard as it was, even then he loved her enough to respect her wishes and not involve himself.

( _He's always loved her. He's fairly convinced of that. He just didn't realize it for the first couple of years_.)

But as the winter chill spread over Amestris, she developed a determined spark in her eyes. Roy didn't know what it was about, but he did know that she was asking her father for something. She had to ask him a few times - either he didn't hear her (he had a habit of not hearing her) or he didn't have an answer ready so he'd tell her to come back later. Only once he'd made his decision did Roy find out what was on her mind. He was pretty sure she hadn't intended for him to be involved, but it was a stipulation.

Formal dance. Last one she'd ever have the chance to attend, to show up those schoolmates who made her life difficult. Teacher had finally given her permission to go, but only on the condition that Roy take her; Riza was not allowed to date, her father didn't trust teenage boys, but he knew that Roy at least had enough fear of him to behave honorably. She bit her lip and twisted her fingers together and tried not to look at him when she explained the situation, and he realized with a jolt in his heart that she thought he'd say no.

( _Which is funny, he thinks, because he could never say no to her. Not then and not now and not any time in between_.)

His consent took her by surprise, but she was so happy that for a brief, hopeful moment he thought she might actually throw her arms around him. And while she devoted extra energy for a few days to going through her mother's old things, to finding the velvet dress that matched her eyes and scrubbing it until it no longer reeked of mothballs, he found a stray moment to sneak into town and buy her a gift. There weren't any flowers to be had, even though he was given to understand that flowers were traditional on such an occasion, so he settled for a pair of silver stud earrings.

( _She wore them that night and the next day and she's worn them every day since, as far as he can tell. He hopes she still has them in right now because it's like she has a piece of him with her, and maybe it gives her some comfort wherever she is_.)

He was nervous as hell when she came down the stairs, and all he could think was that he hoped she couldn't tell he was shaking. She moved over to him and fixed his tie, and he honestly wasn't sure whether that made him more nervous or more relaxed. It somehow had both effects at the same time.

They danced and he found that he'd been right all along, she did fit into his arms exactly as well as he'd thought she would. He'd even found a good moment - and, more importantly, the courage - to tell her she was beautiful, and he dared to take advantage of her astonishment to press his lips to her cheek. It was not enough, not nearly enough, but he was satisfied all the same.

Judging by the jealous looks of the cruel girls when they saw her, all burgundy velvet and silver accents, arm in arm with a handsome older boy that none of them knew, Riza's carefully selected form of revenge was a success. He did his best to help, ignoring their pathetic attempts to flirt with him; he was there with her and she was the center of his universe and none of them mattered.

* * *

Some things don't change. She's still the center of his universe and he misses her so desperately he can't think straight. He opens one eye but the others are still on the far side of the room, talking in hushed voices so he can't hear them. With one arm still wrapped around the pillow, he reaches out with the other until Black Hayate moves to where he can reach. This way, if he keeps his eyes closed and his hand on the dog's head, he can tell himself that she's just stepped out of the room and she'll be back shortly and she'll make him better again.

With the comforting lie securely in place, he finally drifts off. But awake or asleep, the girl with the wine-colored eyes haunts his dreams.


	2. Guardian Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to the first story, this one will seem oddly short. The required word count at the FMA Fic Contest varies with each prompt, so sometimes I'm able to blather on and on (which I seem to be good at doing) and other times I must be rather brief and to the point (which I am not).
> 
> This piece was written for the prompt "Song Lyrics" on the FMA Fic Contest community. This was actually not specifically written to connect to the trilogy, but when I later wrote Triumvirate, I reused Roy standing guard outside of Riza's tent in Ishval; therefore, this could fit anywhere in that fic past chapter 8. The prompt required that the fic contain lyrics from a song, and I chose "A Bird Without Wings," by Celtic Thunder. Ever since I first heard it, I have thought that it sounded like Roy and Riza: 
> 
> Like a bird without wings that longs to be flying  
> Like a motherless child left lonely and crying  
> Like a song without words  
> Like a world without music  
> I wouldn't know what to do  
> I'd be lost without you  
> Watching over me.

 

**Guardian Angels**

_They take it in turns to protect each other._

* * *

By day, he goes out onto the killing fields.

He's stopped fearing what's out there. He stopped fearing it long before she came to the desert, because he felt that whatever he got he deserved. But now he has no fear because the Eye of the Hawk is on him. She protects him.

By night, he walks among the tents, a ghostly figure in his white capelike garment, stealing quietly through the darkness until he finds the one he wants.

Sometimes he goes in. There's an unspoken invitation that stands; he's welcome any time. Much like when they lived across the hall from one another in her father's crumbling house, and the old man would go away for a few days in search of new research materials, endlessly abandoning his daughter in favor of his obsession - he had a standing invitation then, too, to come in and make sure she was all right. And that's all he ever did. She didn't like the dark, she hated storms even more, and to have her father's student - her only real friend - come and check on her seemed to give her a lot of comfort. So sometimes, even now, he checks on her.

Sometimes he does more than that. Sometimes he and she need the reminder that they're still alive, that they can feel something other than the endless nothingness that war creates in their souls. The only one who can ever remind him of that is her. The only one who can ever remind her of that is him.

Most nights he does less. Like tonight. All he does, these nights, is make sure that she's in the tent, that she's okay, that she's not hurt. Make sure that no one disturbs her attempt to find some peace.

She has to be all right, because if she isn't, he never will be.

* * *

They discuss it only once. She asks him why.

"Because I need to know that you'll be there in the morning when I have to pursue this hell all over again," he says. "I wouldn't know what to do - I'd be lost without you watching over me. I need you."

"I need you too... I can sleep at night because I know you're there. It keeps the dreams at bay."

For the rest of their lives, he thinks, this is the way it's going to be. And he thinks he can handle that.


	3. What She Wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first made a casual mention to my Tumblies (that's what I call my followers) that I was possibly considering maybe doing this, and asked what sort of things they might theoretically be interested in hypothetically seeing, the number one request was stories related to Roy and Riza as parents. This is set a liiiittle before that; it was originally written for the "Fish" prompt at the FMA Fic Contest community, and could be taking place any time after chapter 2 of The Game of Three Generals.

 

**What She Wants**

_The cravings can drive a man mad. And they're not even his cravings._

* * *

Fullmetal had warned him about this kind of thing.

"Just going by my own experience, you're in for it," he'd said. "She's going to be waking you up at all kinds of mad hours and asking for the ridiculous. Be ready."

Roy hadn't put too much stock in it at the time. After all, he's married to  _Riza_. She's much stronger than other women, and the ridiculous isn't really her style. Of course, he knows better now. Turns out that once in a while, Fullmetal knows of what he speaks.

She shakes him awake... again. "Roy!"

"Huhwha?" He lifts his head from the pillow and blinks at her. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm hungry."

He pauses. "Okay..."

"For fish."

"...what?"

"Fish. Like you got me last night."

"Again? You're kidding, right?"

She gives him a look that very clearly indicates she is not kidding. He sighs, and gets out of bed. "Okay, okay. Fried?"

"Yes. And lemonade."

"Lemonade?"

"Please?" There's a flash of something guilty in her eyes, like she knows she's being totally unreasonable but she just can't help it. Maybe it's because of this, or maybe it's because that's  _his_ kid who's driving her batty, or maybe it's just because he loves her so much; whatever the reason, he can't be annoyed. Even at three in the morning.

"Sure thing."


	4. Dollhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's mommy!Riza, by popular request, originally written for the prompt "Gender Bender" at FMA Fic Contest. Set, of course, a few years after chapter 21 of The Game of Three Generals.

 

**Dollhouse**

_The men don't really know just how active her imagination is._

* * *

"Riana," Riza calls out. The corridors of the Fuhrer's mansion are relatively silent.

Abstractly, she supposes it is something of a marvel that she has been a mother for almost four whole years now. It had been a rough birth - a rough pregnancy for that matter - but every hour of every day which has passed since its conclusion has been worth every exhausting moment. That she'd been carrying twins throughout the chaotic nine months had come as something of a surprise, and everyone had laughed at the fact that Roy had almost fainted at the news. But in truth, they are both so much happier than either of them have ever believed they have a right to be that sometimes, Riza still occasionally wonders if she is dreaming.

Brendan is currently off with his doting great-grandfather. Grumman has never had a son and never had a grandson (though he maintains that Roy is as good as), so to have a great-grandson is a delight for the aging Fuhrer. Roy himself is in a meeting, and Riza finds herself unexpectedly at leisure, a rare occurrence indeed for the First Granddaughter. Deciding not to waste the opportunity, she wants to see what her daughter is doing.

As it turns out, Riana is playing with her dolls. Riza stands quietly in the doorway of the twins' playroom, watching with mingled affection and curiosity.

Riana's dollhouse is something out of a little girl's dream. Lovingly crafted for her by her Elric "relatives," it is taller than the child herself, with a turreted roof like a fairy tale castle. Uncle Ed, with the eager assistance of his oldest son Lucas, built it out of scrap wood for the grand occasion of the twins' fourth birthday earlier this year. For his part, Uncle Al made all of the furniture and decorations using alchemy, which accounts for the infinite detailing such as the elegant scrollwork carvings of the wood and the stained glass windows flanking the front door. Aunt Winry was the one to put her mechanical skills to work to create a real working elevator that travels between all three floors, and installed miniature electrical lights that turn off and on with tiny working switches.

The dolls, by contrast, were the gift of Aunt Becky, Riana's godmother. They are four beautiful women, each with very different coloring, and Riana is very diligent about brushing their long hair daily. One has black hair, one has red, one has blonde, and one has soft brown. "I couldn't choose," Becky had explained when Riana had opened the package. "They were all so pretty and I knew she'd love any of them so I had to get her all of them."

At present, the dolls are employed in the very important work of holding a tea party, and Riza listens as Riana gives each of them a distinct 'voice.' Her memories of her own early childhood are vague, nearly lost in the swirl of clearer memories of later years, and scented with the barely-remembered essence of the mother who had left her daughter entirely too soon. For this reason, above all others, Riza is fiercely adamant about spending sufficient time with her children in spite of the demands of her other roles. She wants their memories of her to be more distinct than hers.

Gradually, however, she realizes that the names by which the dolls address one another are very... familiar.

"If you please, Fuery, would you pass the tea?" Riana squeaks, making the blonde doll jiggle to indicate who is speaking. "Why, certainly, Havoc," replies the Fuery doll. "Breda, would you like some cookies? Yes, thank you, I would love some, Falman."

Riza is hard pressed not to laugh. Much as she would like to continue observing, she decides that now is a good time to interrupt, before she loses her composure entirely. "Hi, darling, what are you doing?"

"Hi, Mommy," Riana replies in her own voice. "We're having a tea party."

"I see. So you named your dolls after your uncles?"

"Uh-huh."

"Will you tell me why?"

Riana looks nonplussed, as though she cannot fathom why this needs to be asked. "Because I love my dolls."

"And you love your uncles."

"Uh-huh. And there are four of them."

"Well, you have more than four," Riza points out.

"I know. But you an' Daddy always talk about 'those four.' So there are four of them and four of these so there."

"But your dolls are girls. Your uncles are boys."

"I  _know_  that, Mommy," Riana replies in an almost impatient tone. She expects her mother to understand. "But my uncles are brave soldiers, right?"

"Right."

"Well, my dolls are brave soldiers too."


	5. The Game Begins Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a very special wedding day, Fuhrer Roy Mustang doesn't know how to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece was written for the prompt "Silver and Gold" on the FMA Fic Contest community. It takes place in the far distant future, more than a dozen years past the end of The Game of Three Generals, and it should answer a very specific question I've received (more than once) about two characters who appear in the final chapter of that story.
> 
> I've decided that this will be the final installment of this volume. The FMA Fic Contest, where all of these stories originally appeared, has been discontinued, and it seems only reasonable (and necessary for my own sanity) to end the Notes alongside the community. Thank you all so much for your reviews!

It is, the Fuhrer has decided, entirely Ed's fault.

After all, if he had not gotten married so young, he would not have had a son so early in life. Lucas Elric would not already have been in existence by the time Riana Mustang made her way into the world.

Because the two families are so closely allied, it was natural that the children would grow up knowing each other well, and in some roundabout way that is Ed's fault too. Thus, Fullmetal is entirely to blame for the fact that this day is here.

It's a silly thing to think, as Riza would no doubt tell him. But it makes him feel better, somehow, to pin the blame on Ed. Besides, blaming Fullmetal is an old habit, and one that he has never entirely lost. It's still very mutual, too.

He is pacing, in his impeccably polished dress shoes, formal sword clanking at his waist. The appointed hour is close at hand. "Brendan?" he calls absently.

A tawny head pokes itself into the room. Riana is pure Mustang, but her twin is more of a reflection of his Hawkeye lineage; only the sparkling black eyes betray his paternity. "Dad, for heaven's sake, will you drink some tea or something? You're going to wear a hole in the rug."

"Well, at least I can see that _you're_ ready," Roy says, ignoring the suggestion. "What's keeping them?"

"Dad. It's a _wedding dress_. It takes time, and help."

Almost instinctively, Roy turns to look at the photograph on the mantel. It's been many years since it was taken, now; some of the faces in it can no longer be seen outside of photos anymore. "Your mother's dress wasn't that complicated," he says, eyes tracing the elegant simplicity of her figure in the shot.

"Yes, but the queen and the princess aren't the same." Brendan chuckles. "Were you this much of a wreck before your wedding?"

"I was not a wreck then, and I'm not one now."

"Sure, sure. Whatever lets you sleep at night."

"You are your mother's son," Roy retorts fondly. "Always too smart for me."

"She taught me well. Hey, here they come."

Roy turns to watch their descent, blinking rapidly at the sight of his not-so-little girl swathed in lace and taffeta. He's dreaded this day almost since the hour of her birth, but for the moment she is still his. "You look radiant," he manages, kissing her forehead. "Sure you want to go through with this?"

Riana laughs. "For the hundredth time, Dad, _yes_."

"Just checking." He puts up his gloved hands, yielding. Riza shakes her head, and for maybe the first time Roy notices that there's almost as much silver as there is gold in her hair. He has loved her for the better part of fifty years, after all, and perhaps it's this realization which prompts his next remark. "If Luke can make you even half as happy as your mother has made me, little queen, then I'm satisfied."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Well, then, prepare the board."


End file.
